Careless Words
by LittleAmberAmethyst
Summary: "Just go die." He had spoken those kinds of words many times before, especially to JJ. It was just a figure of speech, he never meant it. "Just go die." Who would have thought those three careless words could have such devastating consequences. "Just go die." Three words that would forever haunt him. "Just go die." How he wished he could take them back.
1. Chapter 1

**As we all know, Yurio has no filter, he says whatever he wants without worrying about the consequence. Other than Lilia, no one corrects him, they see it as a part of his personality. But what if one time he says something nasty without thinking, obviously not meaning it, but his words come true. This is that story.**

 **Hints at Otayuri, but you can see it as platonic if you want to. JJbella is the other main pair in this story.**

* * *

The event was Skate America, and the very last competitor of the men's short program enthralled the audience. It was someone Yuri met for seconds that morning, some over enthusiastic kid just a year younger. Yuri made it clear to his junior he didn't care to get to know him and no more words had been shared.

Thus far the ice tiger of Russia held second place, a fact that boiled his blood. Sure he had won at last year's grand prix, and the pressure to excel again this year from both fans and his coach alike bore down on him. Already dreading the lecture he'd receive from Yakov for messing up that second to last jump, Yuri opted taking the long route back, besides there was someone he wanted to speak with.

The audience's cheers reached Yuri's ears backstage. He wore headphones, but had yet to select a song, as he wore them more to bar others from speaking to him. An increase in volume of shouts clued the sixteen-year-old that the young skater finished his program. The announcer would likely tell the world how that upstart was someone to closely watch, how he did fantastic for his age, something Yuri learned to tolerate his debut year in the senior division.

The young skater perked up at seeing his closest friend waiting a few feet ahead. Otabek Altin, currently in third place, gave his younger friend a rare smile and quick wave of his hand.

"You did good, Yura," Otabek offered.

Yuri tried his best not to blush, but he felt his cheeks light up and an involuntary smile spread across his face. Luckily there were no cameras backstage for he wasn't in the mood to listen to Mila's teasing when he arrived home in a few days.

He shook away the thoughts. "I screwed up at the end," the blond said.

Otabek hummed. "You recovered, and your score didn't suffer much."

For a moment Otabek considered sharing how Yuri never broke concentration during the stumble. Surely the judges must have noticed as it was difficult not to see the focus in the young man's eyes his entire performance in the rink.

Yuri opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a third person called out.

"Hey, Otabek!" JJ yelled as he closed in on the two.

Yuri narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. His least favorite competitor and the one who just so happened to currently be in first place stood six feet behind him.

Otabek straightened his posture and greeted the new person with a grunt.

JJ sidestepped Yuri and threw an arm around Otabek.

"You tried that new jump I showed you and not bad," JJ said grinning. "Still not up to perfection, but hey it'll take a while 'til you're on par with me." He pointed his thumb at himself.

Again Otabek grunted and attempted to move out of JJ's hold.

The Canadian patted the other man on the back. "Hey, how 'bout you join me and Isabella for dinner tonight? She actually likes you."

"He doesn't want to hang out with you, asshole!" Yuri spat.

The other two stared at the blond.

Yuri clicked his tongue and continued, "Why don't you disappear. Make everyone's day better."

"Yurio," JJ greeted with a smile. "The invitation's open for you too."

"Yeah right," Yuri snapped.

"Like a hostile kitten, am I right?" JJ teased with a loud laugh.

Otabek noticed the smallest skater seething. He tried to stop JJ before the full tempest was released, but the self-dubbed king was never one on picking up visual cues.

"Hope you two will join me on the podium tomorrow." JJ winked a blue eye at Yuri and said with a smug grin, "Cheer me on, okay?"

Yuri stomped his foot and advanced on JJ. Otabek grabbed Yuri's shoulders and pulled the hissing teenager away.

"Just go die, you jackass!" Yuri snapped.

"Point taken," JJ said with his arms halfway up. His gaze landed on the Kazakh. "Invitation's open, Otabek."

The nineteen-year-old sighed. "Not tonight," he said. He then looked down at the Russian who appeared to have slightly calmed.

"Tomorrow then," JJ replied. "Well, Isabella's waiting, we'll talk later." He patted Otabek on the shoulder then headed for the exit.

Otabek replied with a nod.

Once Leroy was out of vision Otabek released his hold on the tiny blond.

"I am perfectly capable of answering for myself," Otabek chided.

Yuri turned his head and frowned at the taller man. "You're too nice, Beka. Just tell him straight."

"He's not so bad once you get to know him," Otabek offered.

Yuri clicked his tongue then retorted, "I'll take your word for it." He crossed his arms and followed Otabek towards the exit opposite of the one JJ took. "But I suppose since I cost you dinner, I owe you a meal."

Otabek made a sound between a strangled chuckle and a hum, but Yuri knew it was the former.

* * *

Yuri and Otabek returned to the hotel a little after nine. They had supped at a local cafe that had apparently received good reviews. Yuri wasn't too impressed with the food, but Otabek didn't seem to mind.

The blond took a deep breath realizing sooner or later he'd have to face Yakov not only for the flaw in his performance earlier that cost him first place, but also heading out without permission. At the very least he responded to Lilia's text informing her he was safe and in good company. All he could hope was that the three hours combined with assurance of his safety gave Yakov enough time to cool down.

Otabek offered to walk Yuri to his room, a gesture the latter accepted.

It was a silent stroll, but Yuri preferred quiet company with Otabek over the chattering of his rink-mates any day of the week.

They barely made it to their floor when the two saw Yakov and Lilia speaking with one of the program executives and another person neither one recognized. Fortunately there were no reporters around.

Yakov felt the stare and locked eyes with his youngest student. The balding man's grave countenance caused Yuri's stomach to flip. The coach returned his attention to the two men. Otabek and Yuri stood a few feet away to give the men their privacy, however the look on Yakov's face clued them in that he would need to speak with Yuri before the boy retired for the night.

Parting words were exchanged and the two executives took their leave. Yuri glanced up at the stoic Otabek then returned his gaze to Yakov who with a nod of his head lured Yuri over.

At first Yuri expected a lecture. He stopped a few feet short of Yakov who let out a disheartening sigh. Not annoyance and certainly not anger, but something possibly worse. Again Yuri's stomach performed a somersault. Had he unknowingly broken some rule that got him disqualified?

"Yuri, you are currently in first place," Yakov informed him.

Yuri perked up. Had there been a miscalculation? A judge gave an accidental incorrect score? His heart inflated at the thought of JJ's face when he heard the news. However one look at Yakov's face and all glee diminished.

"Leroy won't be participating in the event tomorrow," said Yakov.

Had...had JJ done something to get himself disqualified? Most likely he ran his mouth to the wrong person. But why would that bother Yakov?

"How come?" asked Otabek.

How quick Yuri had forgotten his best friend stood two feet behind him. He glanced up through stray blond strands at the slightly taller man then turned back to his coach. Curiosity had won him over as well.

"You'll find out soon enough," Yakov said more to himself than his student. "Leroy was in a horrible car crash earlier. He's at the hospital."

Yuri assumed it was the shock of the news that stunned him. He heard Otabek's breathing hitch.

"Is he okay?" Otabek asked.

"No," Yakov answered with a firm shake of his head.

"But...but he'll live...right?" Yuri asked.

"There's a chance, but not a big one," Yakov answered.

Yuri's eyes widened.

"Get some rest, Yura," Yakov ordered. He put a large hand on Yuri's shoulder.

A chill slid down his spine causing him to move away from his coach's touch.

"These things happen, you can't let it affect your performance," Yakov said. In a firmer tone he added, "Now go rest."

Yakov's words sounded like a muffled echo to Yuri, as though he floated beneath the smooth surface of a pool or a lake. He turned and his legs struggled to make it to his door. All he could think of were the last words he said to JJ: _Just go die_.

* * *

 **And that ends chapter one on a dramatic note. I haven't decided yet whether or not JJ will live, but at the very least he is critically injured. This story just branched out of a thought of what would happen if Yuri's careless words happened to come true. The be careful what you say kind of thing.**

 **Also, Otabek is difficult to write. I hope I got his character right here.**

 **If you have any suggestions of what you would like to happen in the next chapter such as Yuri's reactions or thoughts, or anything else, feel free to share. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**It's been a while since I last updated this story. At long last here is chapter two.**

 **I only intend Yuri and Otabek's relationship here to be platonic, but if you want it to see it as something more, you're welcome to.**

 **Thank you to midnightsky0612 and yukichicken for your reviews on chapter one.**

* * *

Yuri found it difficult to find sleep. He tossed around in his bed and despite his greatest efforts he couldn't rid his mind of the last thing he said to his fellow competitor. They were just words, he reassured himself, just like many times before, careless words that had no bearing on JJ's fate.

After an hour of trying Yuri rolled onto his back with his arms spread open. Regardless of the comfortable temperature and steady flow of the air conditioning unit, Yuri kicked off the comforter, which did little to ease the heat surrounding his face and neck. He reached for his phone lying atop the side table. The chill of the plastic pressed into his fingertips.

Sure enough, within hours social media bursted with prayers and well wishes for the Canadian skater. Several of the others who had competed against JJ, even those who had barely spoken a word to him expressed their hopes for his quick recovery.

A linked article on Facebook contained an official report had been released just an hour prior. A drunk driver rammed into JJ's car on the driver's side. Leroy arrived at the hospital unconscious, and even after four hours of care he had yet to wake. The reporters weren't sure of the extent of the damage, but his left arm and leg were broken, and two ribs cracked. Three of his left fingers were nearly severed requiring immediate surgery. His liver ruptured and as of the current moment he suffered internal bleeding, although from where had not been specified.

The airbag saved Isabella's life, although her head slammed against the window causing shards of glass to rain in her hair, and resulted in a sprained neck. However she had yet to speak to either police or reporters as the image of her crushed and motionless husband remained etched in her mind.

Yuri ignored the stinging in his stomach and let the cell phone drop to the carpeted floor. He turned over on his side, cursing the moon and hotel lamps for their brightness. He felt as though the heat from those lamps burned into his room cancelling out the effect of the air condition unit.

The sixteen-year-old stared out at the window lit behind the blinds. After an hour of silence save for the hum of the air conditioner, Yuri's eyes fluttered, and eventually he fell into sleep.

* * *

Yuri jolted awake at the sound of pounding on his hotel room door. He threw off the covers and sat up rubbing his eyes. He heard Yakov's angry voice and Yuri stole a glance at the digital clock on the nightstand beside the bed. He swore under his breath at the red numbers which read 10:52.

Yakov yelled in Russian as Yuri made his way to the door. He opened it to see the red-faced man glaring down at his student.

"Why weren't you at breakfast?" Yakov snarled. His already boiling blood reached a new high when he looked over his skater's apperance. "You're not even dressed."

"I overslept for the first time in my life and you want to grill me," Yuri snapped.

Yakov clenched his fists and the vein on his forehead became more pronounced.

"You have ten minutes to meet me in the lobby," Yakov growled. "If you're not there so help me, you'll regret it every practice from now until the end of January."

Yuri slammed the door in his coach's face. However, knowing Yakov would make good on his threat, he skipped the shower and made it downstairs with two minutes to spare. Only an hour remained until his free skate program which he was scheduled to perform first.

The skaters waited behind the rink for their cue to step up. Otabek moved close to Yuri and greeted him with a nod that the younger returned. The room felt silent bereft of the sixth contestant. The fifteen-year-old from Belgium chatted to his coach, he caught sight of Yuri and called out his name, but his words never reached Yuri's ears.

"Yuri Plisetsky," the assistant called. The blond acknowledged the woman and moved to the entrance.

"Good luck, Yuri," the youngest skater called.

Yuri glared at the kid then returned his attention to the opening. He skated through the threshold, momentarily shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. He wondered why the light technichian felt it necessary to blind the athletes during their performance.

The young Russian took his opening stance. The cheers from the crowd grew muffled. Yuri glanced up to see what appeared to be a blurry film separating him from the audience. He figured it had to be somehow related to the over saturation of light.

The music began. Instead of the classical piece he had come to know note by note during his many hours of practice the melody sounded stretched. Yuri glided across the ice in synchrony to the distorted piano keys. He leaped into a lutz and landed perfectly. Slow motion applause and yelling that sounded more like exaggerated yawning filled the arena.

Yuri ignored the mangled music and hushed calls of the crowd. He moved gracefully as he had practiced, counting the steps in his head. He ended with a double salchow and landed with his arms stretched high above. Through the blur he saw rows of faceless people applauding, but heard nothing but a strong hum.

From behind he heard a loud slow clap. Yuri straightened his posture and cautiously pivoted on the ice. With a gasp his eyes widened at the sight of Jean-Jacques Leroy standing at the entrance to the rink, clapping in half notes. His trademark red jacket tattered and decorated in splatters of blood. The twenty-year-old's body bloody and bruised, his hair disheveled. Empty sockets stared dead ahead at the younger skater.

"Good show, Yurio," JJ cheered. A stream of blood dribbled out the corner of his mouth and down his chin. He clapped harder, the dangling middle, ring, and pinky fingers wiggled weightlessly with each collision of the hands. JJ's arms dropped to his side and he skated towards Plisetsky. The damaged man stopped beside the blond and said, "Now it's my turn."

Yuri sprung up in his bed, hair sticky and plastered to the sides of his face and neck. He shuddered, the images fresh in his mind. Blue-green eyes glanced down at the clock by his bed to see the numbers read 3:02. He had been asleep for maybe three hours if that.

Yuri bolted for the bathroom. He barely had time to lift the toilet seat before his halfway digested dinner forced itself up his esophagus. For two minutes he retched. Once finished, the teen sat back on the cold floor, a string of brown bile clung to his hair. Even with an empty stomach he still felt the pull inside.

He wrapped his arms around his middle trying his best to fight off the nagging chill. He shuddered as he told himself that would have been JJ's fate regardless of what he said. Nevertheless he still heard his own voice mutter those words of anger. _Just go die_. Yuri squeezed his eyes shut.

All fatigue vanished from his body. The images of JJ still vivid, but no longer as realistic as when he first woken.

The boy pulled his legs in. He pressed his forehead against his knees and hoped that he'd wake up only to find this was merely a nightmare brought on by the stress of landing second place. Tomorrow he'd open his eyes and make his way to the rink to find JJ wearing that stupid smirk before he stepped onto the ice.

Yuri grabbed onto the edge of the tub and pulled himself onto his shaking legs. He flushed the toilet then ran a hand through his grimy hair. The teenager thought it best he clear his mind through a shower. The water ran until it reached the preferred temperature.

Yuri let the water rain down over his head, washing away the sweat and hopefully the images produced from the darkest section of his subconscious. He held his hands over his face while hot water dripped down his fingers, a few droplets seeped between, landing on his nose and lips.

After his shower, Yuri changed into his workout clothes. Knowing he'd get no more sleep anytime soon, and not wanting to be alone, there was only one other place he could go. He slipped out of his room, quietly shutting the door behind him then tiptoed by Yakov's room.

The Kazakh's rented room happened to be on the same floor, just a ways down the hall. Yuri reached the desired room, he checked the number on the door once more to be on the safe side. As quietly as he could, but still loud enough to be heard by the man inside, Yuri knocked. A minute passed without any reply, so Yuri knocked a second time.

Mid knock the door opened to reveal a sleepy Otabek.

"What're you doin', Yura?" Otabek drowsily asked in Russian while scratching his head.

"I can't sleep," Yuri confessed.

Otabek lowered his arm and just stared speechlessly at the shorter male.

Yuri realized how ridiculous he must have looked and lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I...I'm sorry for waking you," Yuri said in a low voice.

Otabek yawned, and said nothing, but motioned for the blond to enter.

Yuri sat down in the plush chair by the window. Other than the messed up bed the Kazakh recently occupied the room was tidy, almost as though vacant. Otabek's jacket and few clothes he packed for the short visit hung inside the closet behind closed doors. Having attended competitions with Otabek in the past, Yuri knew his friend chose to pack light whenever he traveled.

Even though Otabek's window faced the same direction as Yuri's, the moon and streetlamps didn't seem to blare into Otabek's room with aggressive intensity.

Otabek sat down on his bed, his body begged him to return to sleep. However something seemed off about his friend, surely Yuri wasn't one to feel nervous before his program. He wondered if having to outdo himself from last year's win had something to do with it.

"You want to talk about it?" Otabek asked.

Yuri shook his head. He glanced up to see Otabek try to stifle a yawn.

"I don't mean to keep you up, you can go back to sleep," Yuri said.

"I won't be able to sleep if you're awake," Otabek said.

"You have a competition tomorrow," Yurio replied.

"So do you," Otabek reminded him.

"Yeah, well, I won't let you blame me if you fail 'cause you're tired," the Russian argued. He wrapped his arms around his lithe frame. "Sleep. I just don't want to be alone."

Otabek moved from the edge of the bed. Yuri shut his eyes and listened to the sheets rustle. He felt excess weight and opened his eyes to see the comforter from the bed lying atop of him. Otabek held out one of the pillows which Yuri graciously accepted.

"Try to get some sleep, Yura," Otabek said. "Your coach will never let me hear the end of it if you don't."

Before Yuri could protest Otabek returned to the bed and turned off the lamp. Yuri wrapped the covers around him and nestled deeper into the chair. He doubted he'd fall asleep, but perhaps being with a friend would keep away the nightmares.

* * *

 **As for the dream sequence in this chapter, I like writing surreal horror, so a lot of my stories contain a nightmare scene, just because they're so fun to write due to all the creativity and absence of rules and reality.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


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